Fickle Fate
by I Am The Mystical Penguin
Summary: Two boys fit the description of Trelawney's prophecy about the one who could bring the downfall of Lord Voldemort. We are all familiar with the story of Harry Potter. But what would have happened if Neville Longbottom was the boy who lived?
1. Prophecy

**Author's Note:** I started writing this story prior to the release of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince so, for those of you who've read it, you will notice some differences between my version of the story and J.K. Rowling's original story (besides the fact that the Boy Who Lived will be someone entirely different). I could change the story to be more accurate but I don't feel this particular detail is that important and for the purposes of MY story, Augustus Rookwood is a perfectly fine evil eavesdropping snitch (and no, I don't mean the tiny gold ball with wings).

**Disclaimer:** I am not now nor will I ever be J.K. Rowling. All characters, unless otherwise noted, were her creation and I am proud to be able to use them in my story. The story plot is mine, though since it is a twist on her original storyline, she must take a great deal of credit for that as well. Those of you who are avid readers of the Harry Potter series will pick up on all the similarities and differences so I don't feel like going into further detail. Please read and review and, if it suits you, feel free to enjoy yourself as well.

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**Chapter 1: Prophecy**

_"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…"_

As Augustus Rookwood repeated the words of the prophecy to his master, he sat kneeling on the ground with his head bowed and hidden beneath his dark cloak. A moment passed and no one spoke. Slowly, Rookwood lifted his head and looked into the Dark Lord's reptile-like eyes, trying to determine what was going on in his mind.

His efforts were in vain. Lord Voldemort was a master at concealing his thoughts and Rookwood knew it. All the same, he wished he knew what Voldemort was thinking as he bored down at his loyal Death Eater. Surely such valuable information would merit a high reward? Rookwood gazed back at Lord Voldemort, trying to remain hopeful.

"My Lord?" Rookwood could not stand the silence any longer. He was fully aware of the dozens of other cloaked figures surrounding them, staring fixedly at the two of them.

At long last, Lord Voldemort spoke. His voice was deep and cold, "This is disturbing news, Rookwood."

Rookwood felt his heart lodge uncomfortably in the back of his throat. Is it possible that he would be punished for informing the Dark Lord of the prophecy?

"My Lord, I-" Rookwood started to defend himself.

"Are you sure of what you have overheard?" Lord Voldemort cut him off.

"Y-y-yes, sir. Sibyll Trelawney said it while I was in Hogs Head Inn, my Lord," Rookwood responded, his voice quaking.

"Indeed? She does not have the gift of Sight as her great-great-grandmother does. Her predictions are worthless," Lord Voldemort's voice reverberated off the empty walls as he spoke.

"My Lord, if I may, she did not sound at all like herself. Her voice was deep and quite unlike her own. I think, perhaps, this recent prediction of hers should be taken seriously."

There was another moment of silence. Rookwood tried to gulp but found that the lump in his throat had tightened to the point where he could hardly breathe. A few of the Death Eaters in the back shifted nervously.

"Tell me again, what the Seer said, Rookwood," Voldemort said calmly.

Rookwood lowered his focus to the ground and obeyed the Dark Lord's order. He expected another quiet pause to follow but was relieved to hear the Dark Lord's immediate response.

"Is that all?" he asked.

Rookwood was about to speak but stopped himself. A small beetle was making its way across the floor in front of him. He watched it, trying not to think about the dozen pairs of eyes glaring at him.

"Is…that…all?" Voldemort repeated slowly, beginning to lose his patience.

"No!" Rookwood answered abruptly and quite a bit louder than he had intended to.

"No?" the Dark Lord narrowed his soulless, red eyes to thin slits.

"I-I mean t-to say, my Lord, that I…I do not know," Rookwood fought to keep himself from quivering. "I was discovered at this point and thrown out of the Inn. If there was any more to the prediction, I did not hear it."

"Very well. You should have been able to keep yourself hidden but, nevertheless, you have done your part," Lord Voldemort said.

"Thank you, my Lord," Rookwood was now bowed so low to the ground that he could see the individual dust particles resting on the hard floor.

"Get up!" Lord Voldemort hissed.

Rookwood trembled as he got to his feet and then he quickly shuffled backwards until he was in line with the other Death Eaters. He let out a large sigh of relief; he was not going to be punished after all. Who knows? Perhaps, in a few days time, Lord Voldemort would decide that Rookwood did deserve a reward. He became hopeful again.

Lord Voldemort looked around at his Death Eaters who, in turn, stared back at him.

"It should come to no surprise to any of you that I demand to find out of whom the prophecy is referring to. How can there be one with the power to defeat me, the Dark Lord?" Lord Voldemort snorted and a few of the Death Eaters laughed as though the idea that there exists someone who could defeat Voldemort was absolutely absurd. "Born to those who have thrice defied me, born as the seventh month dies. Who has defied me three times and had a child born last June?"

Lord Voldemort scanned the rows of his Death Eaters, waiting for someone to step forward. He frowned when it began to appear as though no one could answer is question.

One of the Death Eaters cleared his throat and said, "M-my Lord?"

Lord Voldemort raised his eyebrows, "Yes, Wormtail? Do you have something to say?"

Peter Pettigrew, the Death Eater known as Wormtail, stepped forward. He twisted his fingers in his hands nervously.

Without making eye contact, Wormtail muttered, "Th-the P-p-potters, my Lord," and he stepped back in line.

"Ah, of course. I believe you know the Potters well, Wormtail?" Voldemort watched as Wormtail bobbed his head in a quick nod. "I may need your help tending to them."

A smile leapt across Voldemort's hideous white face and he closed his reptilian eyes in deep thought. His thoughts were interrupted by another Death Eater's voice.

"My Lord, there is another," Bellatrix Lestrange said.

Lord Voldemort opened his eyes and looked out at her. A low hiss escaped his lips as he took a step forward. With one skeletal hand, he beckoned for Bellatrix to continue.

Bellatrix gazed back at her master, unflinchingly, and spoke one word, "Longbottom."


	2. Narrow Escape

**Chapter 2: Narrow Escape**

Young Harry Potter was almost the spitting image of his father, James. His baby-fuzz hair was the same jet black and the longer it grew, the more it took on the wild, untamed look of his father's hair. Even at his young age, Harry was showing signs of having of blurry vision (another thing he shared in common with his father). But it was this same pair of near-sighted eyes that also set Harry apart from his father. Harry had the most striking green eyes, which could only have come from his mother, Lily.

Now, those vibrant green eyes were focused on the happy face of Sirius Black, the Potter's most trusted friend. Harry giggled softly and tried to touch Sirius's face with his hand outstretched and each one of his chubby baby fingers reaching out.

"Sirius! We just managed to get Harry to go to sleep and you've disturbed him!" a pretty, young red-haired woman scolded as she entered the room.

"I'm sorry Lily but I just can't help it. He's too cute! Koochy koochy koo!" Sirius cooed as he tickled the bottoms of the baby's feet.

"For God's sake, Sirius, talk like a man!" James Potter laughed at his friend but he, too, couldn't help melting with pride as he looked down at his first son.

With great reluctance, Sirius finally placed little Harry back in his crib. As though it had a mind of its own, the blanket tucked on the bottom of the crib instantly came to life and wrapped itself snuggly around the infant. In a normal household this kind of behavior from a blanket would have sent the family running and screaming from the house but this was not a normal household. The Potters and their friend Sirius were wizards; they carried magical wands and spoke enchantments and even brewed potions on occasion. With a lifestyle like theirs, they had become were quite accustomed to seeing ordinary objects doing extraordinary magical things.

Unperturbed by the moving blanket, Sirius gazed fondly at his godson, "That's the most adorable and amazing baby I've ever met. Mark my words, Lily, he'll be famous when he gets older."

"Honestly! The way you fawn all over that boy, you'd think he were your own child!" Lily sighed.

"Well, he is my god-child, after all," Sirius responded proudly.

"Yes, and you haven't let us forget it since the day we gave you that title," Lily gave Sirius a look of annoyance but the upturned corners of her eyes revealed her hidden amusement.

James Potter sat down and began leafing through the Daily Prophet. Lily slowly walked up behind him and began scanning the headlines over his shoulder.

"Any more attacks from You-Know-Who?" Sirius called from his place beside Harry's crib.

There was no need for Sirius to explain of whom he was referring. Despite the blissful, worry-free attitude that the three adults appeared to have, the reality was that they were living in dangerous times. The war between good and evil was well underway and evil was winning, led by a dark wizard so vicious and cruel that his name was seldom said because it brought terrific fear among any who heard it.

"No, things have been unusually quiet lately, "James answered. "It almost makes me worry. You would think that there would at least be a report of a Death Eater terrorizing some poor muggle family but the Daily Prophet seems completely void of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

At that moment, the door to the main entrance flew open and a gush of wind rushed into the house. Sirius instinctively grabbed the dozing Harry and pulled him protectively to his chest. The self-animated blanket automatically drew tighter around the baby to prevent him from being chilled from the cold wind.

A tall figure stood in the doorway, his face completely shadowed by the brim of his pointy wizard's hat, which, added much to his already rather impressive height. The wizard ducked under the doorway as he made his way into the room.

"Dumbledore? What a pleasant surprise! I wish I knew you were coming, I only made enough dinner for one guest," said Lily.

"I'm awfully sorry to rush in like this, my dear Lily, but there are matters of the utmost urgency that need to be tended to." He paused for a moment. "Sirius? May I have a word?"

"I… Well, of course!" Sirius responded while returning Harry to the crib.

Lily and James exchanged looks of worry and curiosity as Sirius followed Dumbledore out of the room.

"What do you suppose that is about?" Lily asked her husband.

"You-Know-Who. It has to be. I've never seen Dumbledore look like that," said James, his dark, untamed hair standing unusually erect.

"Like what?" Lily wondered.

James swallowed hard before answering, "Like something terrible happened… and it scares him."

The couple remained silent for the rest of the time that Dumbledore and Sirius talked in the other room. Lily began pacing the room nervously, every once and awhile glancing at the crib to make sure Harry was still sleeping peacefully inside it. James resumed reading the newspaper, keeping a more careful lookout for articles about Lord Voldemort.

At long last, Sirius and Dumbledore reentered the room. Sirius's face was unusually pale and he seemed to have trouble finding his voice.

Dumbledore spoke with great ease, though his expression remained grave, "James, Lily, grab Harry; you're coming with me." James opened his mouth to speak but Dumbledore immediately cut him off. "No time for questions now, James, too much time may have been wasted already.

James could do nothing except nod to show his understanding. He watched Lily hastily gather Harry in her arms, taking care not to wake him or cause alarm. Without a word, the three Potters left their home, Dumbledore trailing behind them.

In a few moments the only person remaining in the house was Sirius black who stood, dumbfounded. He watched through the window as the Potters and Dumbledore vanished into thin air.

Finally, Sirius regained control of his voice but the next words that were uttered did not come from him.

"Hello, Sirius."

He didn't even need to turn around to recognize the icy voice of his cousin. "Bellatrix?"


	3. Secrets and Sneaks

**Author's Note: **This is how I spent my time when I should have been reading and taking notes on Joseph Conrad's "Lord Jim" and also taking notes on "Pride and Prejudice" (which I read but got bored and gave up taking notes). I got really into it so I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it and, if not, all well (maybe "Lord Jim" is more your thing?). I'm afraid I sacrificed a bit of Bellatrix's cool, creepy attitude for a sibling rivalry type thing with Sirius Black so I may tweak the chapter later. Please read and review! Compliments? Criticism (constructive only, please!)? Without your reviews I'm my only motivation and if I'm my only motivation then I might as well write the story and not bother to post it. Anyway, enough of that, on to the story!

Oh, and by the way, I decided to change the title to "Fickle Fate". "The Prophecy Misconstrued" was really starting to bug me, especially since, after chapter 1, the story has very little to do with the prophecy. If you have any comments regarding the title change, PLEASE REVIEW! Thank you.

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**Chapter 3: Secrets and Sneaks**

Sirius Black spun around until he was face-to-face with his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. She stared up at him with soulless brown eyes and allowed the corners of her lips to drift upward in a chilling smile.

"What? No kiss, hello? No warm embrace? Is this how you greet family, Sirius?" Bellatrix said, her voice cold and emotionless.

A thousand questions rushed through Sirius's mind with such alacrity that the words jumbled together until the thoughts were completely incoherent and all Sirius could manage to say was a simple, "How?"

Bellatrix's smile widened and a deep laugh escaped her lips. "How? How what? How did I sneak into the Potters' home unnoticed? How long have I been here? How much have I overheard? I'm assuming you didn't mean to ask 'How do you do?'"

Sirius just stood and glared at Bellatrix. Words never failed him before; usually he had no problem yelling at his family members and saying exactly what was on his mind. What was different about now? But the second the thought drifted through his mind, he knew what was different. This time, his best friend was in danger. All of the Potters' lives were in jeopardy.

Bellatrix broke Sirius's train of thought with a low hiss, "Hippogriff got your tongue?" There was another pause, broken by Bellatrix shrieking at the top of her lungs, "Speak to me you Muggle-loving twit! WHERE ARE THE POTTERS?"

Sirius widened his eyes in surprise. He'd never seen Bellatrix lose her composure like that. "Tsk, tsk! Temper, Bella!" Sirius smiled slightly, happy to have his voice and a clear head back. "I will answer your question if you answer mine, which you so nicely stated for me, first. How did you get in here? It's impossible to apparate into a wizard's personal home!"

Bellatrix calmed down but her eyes still flashed, showing her impatience. She let out a heavy sigh; she should have known her task wouldn't have been that easy. "I came through the back door."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, "You're kidding."

Bellatrix laughed at the simplicity of it. "I know, it's so Mugglish isn't it?" Bellatrix shuddered slightly while saying 'Mugglish' as though Muggles were the most revolting creatures she'd ever come across. "Even I expected to come bounding in here and start fighting almost immediately but the way the three of you were fussing over that baby, I could have burned down the house and no one would have noticed!"

Sirius's face fell, ashamed. How could he be so distracted that he hadn't noticed an intruder in the house? He was supposed to provide a bit of added protection to the Potters and he failed. He lifted his gaze back up to meet Bellatrix. There would be time to beat himself up over it later.

"How long were you here? Where were you when Dumbledore and I…" Sirius trailed off. If Bellatrix had heard his conversation with Dumbledore then he would have to leave and find the headmaster immediately.

Bellatrix smirked, "Oh, you would just love it if I spilled my heart and soul out to you right now, wouldn't you? What makes you think that I'm going to just tell you everything? Anyway, I came in just before Dumbledore left with the Potters so I did not hear your conversation."

Sirius let out a sigh of relief. All was not lost.

"It's easy enough to guess anyway," Bellatrix's eyes twinkled as she watched Sirius's reactions with amusement. "So tell me, Sirius, where are the Potters?"

Sirius tried to hide any emotion from showing up in his face. "The Potters are out for the evening on a nice stroll. If you hurry, I'm sure you can catch them."

"Don't toy with me, Sirius. I know you know where they are. Dumbledore's hidden them somewhere and he's made you their Secret Keeper," she watched as Sirius stiffened. "Don't act so surprised that I know. Any fool could have guessed it. With the Potters in danger, the most logical thing for Dumbledore to do would be to hide them in an unknown location and choose a Secret Keeper. The only reasonable choices for Secret Keeper would be either you or Dumbledore but Dumbledore is the best man your side has and he can't afford to lie low for a bit. So it's got to be you," Bellatrix smiled and stepped towards Sirius. She didn't need his confirmation to know that everything she had just said had been true or frighteningly near it.

Before Sirius could even think, Bellatrix raised her wand and shouted "Crucio!"

Pain, like nothing Sirius had ever felt in his life, coursed up through his entire body. A sharp, stabbing pain like thousands of tiny knives slicing through every organ and every appendage. He wanted to curl up on the floor, he wanted to scream, he wanted to die. But Sirius Black would do none of these things. He would not give in to his cousin's torture.

Bellatrix didn't allow Sirius's refusal to submit to pain to detract from her pleasure. With a cold, icy laugh she lifted her wand again and yelled, "Imperio!"

Suddenly, Sirius's pain vanished. In that same instant, all of his emotions evaporated. The anger, confusion and worry completely left him and Sirius was in a state of serenity and calm. It no longer bothered him that his best friend and his family were in mortal peril. Nothing bothered him anymore.

A lonely thought drifted to the surface of his mind, "Tell me where the Potters are." The command was so simple and, even with Bellatrix's voice, it seemed so calm and soothing. Why shouldn't Sirius reveal the Potters whereabouts? It wouldn't hurt anybody. And the voice had asked so nicely.

He opened his mouth to speak but then stopped himself. The Potters. Dumbledore. Danger. The Secret Keeper, him. Bellatrix Lestrange. Danger. The Potters. Danger.

"Where are the Potters, Sirius?" the voice asked again, so gentle and pleasant.

"NO!" Sirius's own voice screamed in his head. The Potters. Trouble. Don't tell! Don't tell!

"I WON'T TELL!" Sirius shouted, his voice backed by rage.

His eyes came back into focus and he stared at a dumb-stricken Bellatrix, a look that really did not become her. Apparently he had said the last sentence aloud. He had fought Bellatrix's Imperius curse. And won.

Before Bellatrix could regain herself, Sirius transformed into a large black dog. He lunged at Bellatrix with such force that it knocked her hard onto her back. He dashed to front door, all four of his furry, black paws thumping heavily against the wooden floor. His mind was racing but he had to focus; he had to find Dumbledore.

Sirius's left front paw momentarily changed back into its human form just long enough for him to turn the doorknob and open the door.

He could he Bellatrix's frusterated cry as he leapt outside and landed in the soft grass on four padded paws. Silently, he slipped into the shadows and was gone.


	4. Misplaced Trust

**Author's Note:** Thanks to those of you who review my chapters! It means a lot. And just to show how much it means, I have acknowledged all constructive criticisms and used them to improve my latest chapter! I've only gotten one so it wasn't too difficult but um, yeah. Barefoot Bohemian should be pleased to know that this chapter is almost double the length of the other chapters. Enjoy!

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**Chapter 4: Misplaced Trust**

It was common knowledge in the wizarding world that Albus Dumbledore was the only one whom Lord Voldemort had ever feared. Whether it was his immense magical power, his profound mind, or his insurmountable, charismatic charm, there was something about the school headmaster that made Voldemort uneasy.

But being the only person that the Dark Lord feared wasn't all that it's cracked up to be. Dumbledore was the leader in the fight against Voldemort's rise to power and was, therefore, frequently needed in about six places at once. He was a man of many talents and abilities but cloning himself was not one of them. As a result, Dumbledore was forced to spend his time constantly traveling from one place to the next using his magical touch to remedy the world's problems. This made him about as easy to track down as a Squibb in a Muggle village.

Sirius knew all of this but it was not enough to deter him. He was on a mission; a mission so urgent that failure could mean loss of a life… or three. Though he could handle having the guilt of a lifetime of faults, he could never bear the burden of death on his conscience. Sirius gently shook his head to clear his mind of any thoughts of what might happen if he couldn't find Dumbledore in time. At any moment he could be surrounded by death eaters. He had managed to fight off Bellatrix's Imperius curse but there was no way he could fight the curse of several dark wizards at once.

Sirius looked out at the magnificent castle that loomed ahead of him. There really wasn't any reason for Dumbledore to be in the famous wizard school at this time of the year but Sirius couldn't think of any other place to look for him. At least, if Dumbledore wasn't at Hogwarts, then Sirius could stay temporarily behind the castle walls until the headmaster appeared. Hogwarts had a reputation of being one of the safest places in Britain. Sirius hated the idea of going into hiding but it wasn't his life that he was trying to protect.

A light, warm breeze sped across the Hogwarts grounds and gently ruffled the fur of the black dog outside its gates. Sirius slowly raised his head and tried to catch the sent of the headmaster in the passing wind. His sensitive canine nose quickly deciphered all of the smells distributed in the night's summer air.

If dogs could show facial expressions, Sirius would be displaying a look of disappointment. Dumbledore was not at Hogwarts. He growled in frustration. Spending the night locked up inside the old school waiting and wondering what was happening in the real world was not his idea of fun.

Feeling defeated, Sirius slowly made his way up to the castle gates. To add to his annoyance, the wind shifted and a large gust swept his fur in the wrong direction. Sirius snorted to express his displeasure but then stopped.

For a few minutes he remained completely motionless except for the spastic expansion and contraction of his lungs as he sniffed the air enthusiastically. A tingle of excitement ran down his spine and ended in the involuntary of his tail.

In a moment he was off, racing in the opposite direction of the castle. A group of shops lay within his field of vision. The tiny buildings gradually grew to normal size as Sirius continued closer and closer.

Soon he was on the cobblestone road that ran between the buildings. A quick inhale confirmed that he was going in the right direction. He made a sharp turn to the right and entered the pub in front of him.

A long bar stretched from one end of the pub to the other and a chalkboard sign hung above it displaying the specials for the day. Tables were scattered about the spacious room, each surrounded by a small cluster of chairs. An elderly man sat at a table in the far corner, calmly sipping a mug filled with Butterbeer. Sirius exhaled deeply, sending a wave of relief through every tensed muscle in his body, and he slowly approached the old man.

Dumbledore smiled a kind but wary smile at the large black dog padding towards him.

"Sirius! How did you know I was in Honeydukes?"

By the time Dumbledore had finished his question, the dog had turned into a fully grown man with black, shaggy hair, much like the fur he had worn moments ago.

"It's a gift," Sirius responded, not wanting to relive the panic of the past hour.

"I know it seems a bit selfish of me to be enjoying a glass of Butterbeer when the world is fighting one of the most terrible wars in our history but I feel it's necessary for one to have a few minutes of peace between the long periods of chaos. It helps to maintain one's sanity. Don't you agree, Sirius?" Dumbledore asked before taking a sip from his mug.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir, I can't be the Potter's Secret Keeper," Sirius said, getting straight to the point.

Dumbledore tilted his head slightly to one side, a look of concern and wonder on his face. "Sirius, I assure you, I would not have bestowed such a heavy responsibility to you if I did not think you could manage it."

Sirius shook his head. "It's too obvious it's me. Bellatrix already guessed it."

"Are you sure?" Dumbledore frowned.

Sirius nodded, "Yes. It's only a matter of time now before…"

Dumbledore held up a hand to silence Sirius. "Sirius, I stand by what I have said before that I would not have given you this secret if I did not think you capable of keeping it. I don't think there is anyone who the Potters would trust more than you. However, if you think that it's necessary that a new Secret Keeper be appointed then it shall be done. I'm sure Remus Lupin would be more than willing to–."

"No. Not Remus. Bellatrix expects the Secret Keeper to change now that she knows and she's probably already predicted that Remus would be chosen nesxt. Plus, as a werewolf, he's not fully in control of his actions every day of the month. All the Death Eaters would have to do is wait for a full moon and capture him and then the Potters are as good as…" Sirius couldn't finish the sentence. It was an outcome that simply couldn't be allowed to happen.

"Very well. Whom did you have in mind?"

"Peter Pettigrew."

"Peter? I'm not sure if–."

"I've thought it through. He's always been good friends with Remus, James and I but he'd also be an unlikely choice which is why he's the perfect choice. The Death Eaters won't think of Peter." Sirius didn't usually cut the Dumbledore off but he was very anxious to have a new Secret Keeper appointed.

"I see. Well, if that is what you believe is the best course of action, Sirius, I trust you completely. I will leave immediately to relocate the Potters and to inform Peter of his duties."

"Thank you, Dumbledore." Sirius shifted back into a black dog and quietly slipped back into the streets of Hogsmeade. He felt like a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders and now he was completely weightless. He was certain he'd done the right thing. No one would suspect Peter Pettigrew.

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A low murmur ran through the congregation of Death Eaters as they waited impatiently for their master to speak. They had been assembled for over half an hour but the Dark Lord merely paced the floor, his red eyes narrowed to tiny slits and his upper lip curled in displeasure. 

"Why were we called here if we're just going to stand around?" Anotonin Dolohov muttered quietly so that Voldemort wouldn't hear.

"Quiet you fool!" snapped Walden McNair in a low, gruff voice. "The Dark Lord's mood has become increasingly sour since he heard the prophecy. If those two rug rats aren't found and killed soon, heads are gonna roll; our heads!"

Dolohov winced slightly at the thought.

"You think he called us here to let out his frustration on us?" Dolohov whispered, eyeing Voldemort warily.

McNair opened his mouth to respond but was stopped short when another Death Eater nudged him to the side and entered the conversation.

"You're both overreacting. There are two Death Eaters who haven't yet responded to the Dark Lord's call. If there's going to be any head rolling tonight, it'll be theirs."

McNair glared at the other Death Eater for interrupting him but Dolohov seemed interested.

"Two Death Eaters are missing? Who are they, Crouch?" Dolohov asked.

Bartemius Crouch Jr. leaned forward and spoke so softly that his words were almost inaudible. "Bellatrix and Wormtail."

McNair grunted. "I wondered when Wormtail would finally chicken out but Bellatrix? I'd never have expected it of her."

"You're right," Dolohov agreed.

He scanned the crowd of Death Eaters and motioned for one of them to come over.

"Hey, Rodolphus, where's your wife?" Dolohov asked the Death Eater.

"She's here," Rodolphus responded calmly. The three Death Eaters around him simultaneously raised their eyebrows in disbelief.

"She arrived about two minutes ago. The Dark Lord won't punish her for tardiness; she was on an important mission." Rodolphus grinned proudly.

The other Death Eaters remained unconvinced. Rodolphus sighed in annoyance and gestured to his wife who was slowly separating herself from the crowd to approach an increasingly angry Voldemort.

A silence fell over the Death Eaters as one by one they realized that Bellatrix was about to say something to the Dark Lord.

"My Lord?" she said simply.

Voldemort stopped pacing and focused his reptile-like eyes on Bellatrix. His scowl softened slightly at the sight of his favorite Death Eater.

"Do you have news for me, Bella?" Voldemort asked.

Bellatrix answered with a simple smile and bowed her head in a small nod. A low, grumbling laughter erupted from the Dark Lord and echoed off the empty, stone walls.

When the room became silent, Bellatrix continued. "Dumbledore has taken the Potters and the Longbottoms to a hidden location as we suspected. My cousin is the Potter's Secret Keeper."

Voldemort grinned. "You never disappoint me, Bellatrix."

He lifted a thin, pale hand and stroked Bellatrix's cheek affectionately. Rodolphus shifted uncomfortably in the crowd of Death Eaters but said nothing.

Bellatrix's smile faltered but she tried to keep her expression optimistic. "There is a chance, however, that Dumbledore will change the Secret Keeper."

Voldemort recoiled his hand from Bellatrix and a scowl returned to his face. "What do you mean?"

"Sirius knows that I know he's the Secret Keeper. If I know my cousin as well as I think I do, he's already run to Dumbledore and demanded the title be given to someone else." Voldemort frowned and Bellatrix quickly added, "But I'm sure the new Secret Keeper will be easy to guess. It will most likely be Dumbledore or that werewolf friend of Sirius's, Lupin."

Voldemort was little comforted. He aimed his wand and wordlessly sent fatal red sparks at the center of the cluster of Death Eaters. The Death Eaters instinctively dived out of the way and a large charred hole appeared in the wall behind where they once stood.

Bellatrix thought about speaking but couldn't think of anything reassuring to say to the Dark Lord. Knowing that she was lucky that Voldemort hadn't aimed his wand at her, Bellatrix silently stepped back into line with the other Death Eaters.

Voldemort took up pacing the floor again until he noticed a chubby, cowering wizard standing in front of the hole in the wall. The wizard, who had apparated there only seconds ago, stood fidgeting; his eyes darted from the group of Death eaters on either side of him to the gaping hole in the wall and then to the Dark Lord.

Nostrils flaring in rage, Voldemort started walking toward the timid wizard who immediately became tense and wide-eyed.

"You're late, Wormtail," Voldemort said coldly.

"I'm sorry!" Wormtail fell to the floor in a low bow, his whole body quaking.

"Get up, you filth!" Voldemort spat.

Wormtail instantly scrambled to his feet but his eyes remained focused on the floor.

"I- I h-h-have w-wonderful news, m-m- m-my Lord," Wormtail stammered.

Voldemort raised his wand and said, "For your sake, I hope so."

Wormtail began trembling more violently. "I have b-b-been made the P-Potter's S-S-Secret K-Keeper, my Lord."

Instinctively, Wormtail raised his hands to block the attack though he might as well have used a paper shield for protection. The entire room fell silent; several Death Eaters even unknowingly held their breath in anticipation of what would happen next.

Moments passed and everyone in the room remained completely motionless except for Wormtail who was now shaking even more noticeably. The silence was deafening to him. Slowly, he raised his gaze from the floor and looked at Voldemort, his wand still raised.

In one swift movement, Voldemort lowered his wand and let out the samecruel, coldlaugh as before only it was stronger and louder. His frightening laugh vibrated throughout the room and carried out into the dark night where the Dark Mark glowed vehemently.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I start school in the second week in September and I still have a lot of college prep work to do and summer assignments to finish so I don't think I'll be able to get many updates done from now on. Since I pretty much already have the next chapter written in my head, I will try to write that and get it posted by the end of August but I make no promises. As always, the more reviews, the more motivation I get and the more likely a new chapter will be posted. And (review!) after all that (review!), you didn't get the (review!) hint... it's hopeless. 


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